


Looking in all the wrong places

by poochooey



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-30 17:24:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poochooey/pseuds/poochooey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Makoto loves sex and loves Haru, but can't seem to combine the two. Also known as Grindr AU.</p><p>--<br/><i>He liked kissing and he liked smaller bodies, bigger bodies, muscular bodies and wiry frames. He liked them all.</i></p><p>  <i>Most of all, he liked Haru. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The boy was dark-haired, blue-eyed. He had a great smile.  
  
Makoto honestly hadn't expected for him to be so good looking. He'd been trying out a recommended site for a few days and he'd already found that a lot of people tended to use pictures that were--to put it bluntly--fake. He understood why; sometimes people were too afraid of rejection. He understood that feeling to his core.  
  
They shook hands. The boy's name was Yuusuke. He was turning 18 in a month and went to an academy just outside Tokyo. He was just visiting a friend. He just wanted to have some fun.    
  
Makoto wanted to have some fun, too. He liked meeting people. He liked being touched; he liked touching. He liked kissing and he liked smaller bodies, bigger bodies, muscular bodies and wiry frames. He liked them all.  
  
Most of all, he liked Haru. But not everyone could be Haru, and Haru was his best friend. He didn't know about the things Makoto did because nobody knew about the things Makoto did. And that was alright, Makoto thought, following Yuusuke up the stairs and into his building. That was okay.  
  
He stepped into the elevator with Yuusuke.  
  
Yuusuke pressed the third floor, then turned and grinned at him. "How're you feeling about this?"  
  
"A little nervous," Makoto said.  
  
"First time?" Yuusuke asked.  
  
Makoto gave him a shy smile.  
  
"No," he said.  
  
*  
Yuusuke's apartment had a lot of windows. You could see the empty streets through them, the stoplights blinking green and red for an occasional car. Makoto watched some cats squabble over a pile of scraps next to a dumpster.  
  
"Can I get you a drink?"  
  
Yuusuke's voice behind him startled him.  
  
"Ah," Makoto said. "No. No, that's fine. Thank you."  
  
He knew it was stupid, just going to the houses of people he'd never really met before. He knew it was irresponsible and he knew his parents would disapprove if they knew. But they thought he was with Haru, and Haru thought he was with his family. They'd never suspect a thing, but Makoto just hated lying. Especially to Haru.  
  
Makoto turned towards Yuusuke. Now wasn't the time to think about Haru. Maybe later. He was wearing a sweater that itched against his skin because of the newness of the wool. It itched him again when Yuusuke slid his arms around Makoto's waist and leaned in.  
  
"Hey," Yuusuke said.  
  
"Hey," Makoto replied.  
  
Yuusuke leaned in, pressing him against the window. "You're really cute."  
  
"Thanks," Makoto said. "You are too."  
  
"And so polite," Yuusuke said, moving in until their foreheads touched. His lips brushed Makoto's when he talked. "Felt like I was meeting up for an interview with the way you talked."  
  
Makoto laughed. "Oh," he said, "I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't worry," Yuusuke said. He kissed him softly. "I feel like I earned you."  
  
Makoto didn't really understand, but he kissed him back anyway. Yuusuke was a good kisser. A great kisser, even. He nibbled on Makoto's bottom lip and took in Makoto's tongue eagerly, pushing him against the glass, his hands going under Makoto's sweater.  
  
"Shit," Yuusuke said, "you really are as built as you were in your pics, huh?" He pulled the hem of his sweater up and ran a finger down Makoto's hipbone. "Damn."  
  
Makoto kissed him again, partly because it embarrassed him, partly because it made him hard.  
  
*  
The next week, Makoto was kissing someone he'd met on the train he took to his grandparent's house. They'd been standing close together and Makoto could smell his cologne. He glanced backwards and the boy had that look in his eyes--that look, the one Makoto was familiar with by now. The look Haru never gave him.  
  
He was checking Makoto out. Makoto checked him out, too. A little on the shorter side, dark hair again. Just the way he liked it.  
  
Makoto pushed back against him a little, just to see what he'd do. The train jostled them a bit anyway, and Makoto knew he was bigger, if things got bad. His ass touched the other boy's crotch and he took a step back, turning back to look outside the window.  
  
The boy behind him took a step forward, his hands coming together over Makoto's front. Makoto could feel him pushing forwards. He felt himself getting hard and felt guilty about it; he was on the way to see his grandparents, after all.  
  
A five minute break couldn't hurt. The boy got off at Makoto's stop and they went into the bathroom for a few moments to kiss and fondle each other after a couple hurried greetings.  
  
The boy's name was...Makoto couldn't remember. Something with a T. He didn't want to ask while T was on his knees, taking Makoto's cock into his mouth.  
  
He made sure there were no stains on his clothes when he rang his grandparent's doorbell.  
  
*  
  
"Where have you been?" Haru asked. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he wouldn't accept the pastry Makoto was offering him. It was lunch time and they were on the roof as usual, Haru more quiet than usual, which was saying something.  
  
Makoto shrugged and smiled, putting the pastry back in his bag. "You know, just busy. Lots of homework."  
  
"We're in the same class," Haru said, unconvinced. "We don't have that much homework. Also, I went to your house yesterday and you weren't there."  
  
Makoto swallowed. Haru went to his house? Was Makoto in trouble? Surely his parents--  
  
"I told them I just remembered that we were meeting at the shop instead and left."  
  
Makoto bit his lip. Haru had thought of everything.  
  
God, he was so painfully perfect. So brilliant, capturing Makoto's heart from the first moment they met.  
  
"Thanks," he said quietly.  
  
Haruka shrugged and crossed his arms, looking away. "I still don't understand why you've been disappearing lately," he said, almost sounding bored, even though Makoto knew that wasn't the case. "Where are you these days?"  
  
"I've just been...busy," Makoto said again, lamely. He was horrible at lying, and Haru had always been able to tell. He glanced at Makoto from the corner of his eye, raising a lone eyebrow.  
  
"Busy."  
  
 _Busy trying not to think about you_ , Makoto wanted to say. But that was too brash for someone as reserved as Haru. They'd never pushed each other's limits, and Makoto had never asked for more. It would be unfair to ask for things to change.  
  
"Busy," Makoto repeated. "But I swear I'm not trying to ignore you, Haru. We can do something together today after school--or tomorrow, or whenever."  
  
Haru sniffed. He turned back to his bento, picking at his mackerel with his chopsticks.  
  
"Not if it's an inconvenience," he said.  
  
Was he... _jealous_? Haru was _jealous_? Makoto swallowed. He leaned over Haru's shoulder, wanting to rest his chin there but hovering instead, too shy to do what he really wanted to do.  
  
"Haru," Makoto said. "It's never an inconvenience when it's you. I'd drop anything for you."  
  
That was probably more than Haru needed to hear, at least from where Makoto was standing. But Haru was looking at him again, eyes deep and intense as always.  
  
"I don't like it when you're away like this," Haru said. "I want that to stop."  
  
Makoto wanted to throw himself across Haru's lap and beg forgiveness for his actions, his sins. Then, maybe, just maybe, he'd put a hand on the back of Haru's head and pull him down into a kiss. Just one kiss, strong and resolute.  
  
"Yes," he said. "I agree, Haru. I miss you."  
  
"Don't say stupid things," Haru snapped, which caught Makoto off-guard. He looked down, feeling ashamed. It really was his own fault.  
  
"Sorry," Makoto said. _I’m so sorry._  
  
Haruka shrugged.  
  
*  
  
He followed Makoto to his house after class. Makoto was happy he did; it'd been a while since he'd done that without Makoto inviting him. Sometimes Haru just left before everyone, on a good day or a bad one. Sometimes he just liked to soak in the tub and sometimes even Makoto didn't know why.  
  
He figured that was fair. He wasn't going to push Haru. Though it seemed like he was--that he was slowly pushing him away.  
  
Makoto let him enter the house first. Haru waited for Makoto take off his shoes, then slipped off his own and pushed them next to Makoto's shoes with his foot.    
  
"I guess nobody's home," Makoto said. He smiled, but he didn't feel like his heart was in it. Haru and he were home alone. They'd been like this a thousand times before, but Haru wasn't usually mad at him. And Makoto didn't usually feel so nervous. He felt the quiet familiarity of their relationship slipping through his fingers, and it was all because of him.  
  
"I want to take a bath," Haru said. "Do you have any clothes I can borrow?"  
  
"Huh?" Makoto said reflexively, then shook his head yes. "Of course, yeah. Let me get you a towel, too."  
  
Haru nodded, turning and heading for the bathroom. Makoto took one long, lingering gaze at his ass as he walked away, something he hadn't been letting himself do for a while. He'd distracted himself with other bodies but Haru's body sparked a fire in him unlike any other Makoto had ever seen.  
  
Makoto let out the breath he'd been holding and remembered what he was supposed to do. He went to the closet and took out the towel Haru always used whenever he stayed over at Makoto's place. And yeah, maybe once or twice Makoto had rubbed his face in it when Haru had left, smelling the scent of his own shampoo that was now in Haru's hair. Maybe once or twice he’d forced himself to put it in the laundry because he’d gotten an erection and that wasn’t being a good friend at all.  
  
Something had to change, Makoto thought, stalling before going into the bathroom. He leaned on the wall next to the doorframe, hearing Haru shuffle around inside. He heard the water running and pressed the towel to his face again, though this time it was out of frustration.  
  
He'd tell him. He'd tell him he'd—what? That he’d been having sex with random guys to forget about him? Nobody could take that lightly. Haru wasn't like everyone else, either. Makoto could imagine it now, a million scenarios rushing through his head.  
  
 _That's disgusting_ , Haru would say in one, arguably the worst one, his face darkening. He wouldn't shout, but he would grow cold in Makoto's presence. And then he'd leave Makoto's house, and Makoto wouldn't ever see him again. And then Makoto would dig a hole and lie in it, claiming it as his grave, because it'd be meaningless without Haru.  
  
The sound of running water stopped. Haru was probably sitting in the tub right now. Makoto would just leave the towel on the bathroom counter and go back to his room. He hadn't even gotten Haru's clothes yet. He knew just which clothes to give him, too. Haru always had the ones he preferred when he slept over.  
  
"Haru," Makoto said, knocking twice and pushing the door open an inch. "I have your towel, I'll leave it here--"  
  
"Come in," he heard Haru say.  
  
"I..." Makoto bit his lip. "Okay," he said, defeated so easily. He stepped inside, head bowed, hanging the towel on the rack and sitting on the toilet, his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands.  
  
He looked at Haru's clothes crumpled in the corner and noticed something.

Haru's swimsuit was on top of the pile, too.  
  
Makoto turned red. He couldn't help it, so he covered his face with a hand to hide it, avoiding looking at Haru. This was different than in the locker rooms, where Makoto felt okay enough to keep to himself, where he was having enough sex that he could glance at the bodies of his friends and teammates and not stare, instead. His glances were still shorter with Haru, though, and Makoto had stayed behind once or twice to turn the shower dial to cold for a few minutes.  
  
"Makoto," Haru said.  
  
"Yes?" Makoto asked, still covering his face. He lowered his fingers once he felt his face getting a little less hot, but he still couldn't look at Haru.  
  
"Makoto," Haru repeated. He wanted Makoto to look at him. Of course. Makoto looked at him through the corners of his eyes. Haru was hunched over, arms around his knees, chin resting in between them. He had no qualms about staring straight at Makoto.  
  
"I'm sorry," Makoto said. "I'm just...distracted."  
  
Haru sighed, then leaned back on the tub. He spread his legs, knees on either wall of the tub. He reached his arms up behind him and put his hands behind his head. He looked at Makoto, something unreadable in his face.  
  
Makoto could barely stand it. This just wasn't fair. Not fair not fair not fair. How could Haru act like this? This wasn't normal for him. Nothing felt normal anymore. Makoto turned his face to the bathroom wall, and then to Haru's clothes again, as if he'd just seen something.  
  
When he turned back to look at Haru, Haru was frowning.  
  
"Your face is all red," Haru pointed out. "And you won't look at me."  
  
Makoto waited for the inevitable. He felt it coming.  
  
"You're dating someone, aren't you?"  
  
"Huh?" Makoto drew back, flush gone from his face. He looked at Haruka with ease, now, the feelings of confusion rushing over and blanketing everything else.  
  
Haru frowned harder, looking away. His lips were pursed. "Who is it? Is she in our class?"  
  
"Haru," Makoto said, his confusion turning into relief, then dread. "No…"  
  
"Is it that girl Kou's friends with? Chigusa--"  
  
"No! It's not like that," Makoto said, almost shouted. He fisted the knees of his school slacks. The fabric was unforgivingly stiff and rubbed against his knuckles. He hadn't even changed yet. He hadn't gotten Haru's clothes yet. He needed to get those, and maybe during that time clear his head--  
  
"Is it a boy?"  
  
Makoto froze. He had been getting up, but Haru's words made the strength go out of his legs. This was it; this was what he wanted, after all. He took a deep breath.

“So it is,” he heard Haruka say.

 _No,_ Makoto wanted to tell him, but what could he really say? _No, it’s not one boy. It’s two. Sometimes five. Hell, sometimes ten! But it doesn’t matter!_

Of course it’d matter. Especially to someone like Haru, who’d never had a passing romance with anyone other than a waterfall. He’d never want Makoto now, even if he _did_ like guys, because Makoto was so dirty. He was filthy for doing this instead of confessing to Haru in the first place. He felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He didn’t know what to say. He had no idea. No words.  

“You could have just told me,” Haru said, but his voice was cold. So cold that Makoto imagined it freezing the bathwater, turning the steam into clouds of winter breath. He shivered underneath his clothes.

“It’s not like that,” was all Makoto could say. It came out like a choked whisper. This was the opposite of what he wanted. The complete opposite.

Haru stood up abruptly, leaning over Makoto to grab the towel on the rack. Makoto stared at his pale skin, glistening with water drops, then relented and looked down. _You may as well_ , something in his head said mockingly, _this could be the last time you see your beloved Haru-chan, after all._

He squeezed his eyes shut, the image of Haru’s slender pink cock, dripping with water, burning into his brain. Haru wasn’t the most modest of people, but he never went completely naked like this. Even in the bath, Makoto thought. Combined with Haru’s mood earlier today, it was all a little unusual.

“I’m going to leave,” Haru said, breaking Makoto out of his thoughts. He’d tied the towel around his waist and was heading for the door.

“Haru,” Makoto cried, standing up. He pushed the door closed as Haru was opening it and stood over him, both arms on either side of Haru’s head. Haru turned around and stared up at him, unwavering. But his eyes had lost their shine; they were a dull blue.

“What,” Haru said, his voice just as dull.

Makoto kissed him. He leaned down and crushed his lips against Haru’s, pushing him against the door, making the wood rattle against the doorframe. He breathed through his nose and tilted his head, fists curling against the door.

He felt drained, miserable when Haru didn’t kiss him back at first. But then two pale, wet hands grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down harder against Haru’s lips. With his next breath, Makoto moaned into Haru’s mouth, and Haru slipped his tongue inside, sucking on it. Then he bit Makoto’s lip so hard Makoto made another noise, this time from pain, and pushed Makoto away.

Makoto staggered back, touching his lip, his other arm dangling uselessly by his side. He could have used it to block himself when he saw Haru’s fist coming but he let it connect with his jaw, the pain flooding his head, his teeth clicking together.

Haru opened the door again and stepped outside, closing it in Makoto’s face. He’d forgotten his clothes. He wouldn’t run all the way home like that, would he?

Makoto heard the front door slam shut.

He would.

Makoto turned around and slid down the door, staring at his socked feet. His jaw throbbed. He’d just done something so stupid, _so_ stupid.

Why hadn’t he just told him? It would’ve been better than just kissing him like that. Makoto wasn’t like that. He never pushed Haru. He’d never wanted to put his best friend in a situation like this.

But he had. He’d done exactly that.

And yet…

Makoto touched his bottom lip again. When he drew his fingers back they were smudged with blood. Haru really had bitten him hard. But before that he had pulled Makoto down and kissed him back; had kissed him even harder.

Makoto clutched his head with both hands, pulling at his own hair. Did Haru think he was really dating another guy? Was that why he got so angry?

The front door opened, but this time it was Makoto’s family. He heard Ren and Ran squabbling in the doorway, kicking off their shoes.

Makoto got up hurriedly, stuffing Haru’s clothes in the cabinet under the sink. He’d get them later; he didn’t want to explain anything right now. He washed his face in the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. His jaw looked okay. Haru hadn’t hit him that hard.

He almost wished it hurt more. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he almost dropped it into the sink as he hurriedly groped for it and flipped it open.

It wasn’t Haru.

It was Yuusuke.

_You free tonight?_

Makoto stared at the screen for a few seconds before replying, _Yeah. You looking for some company?_

He pressed send and got a reply almost instantaneously.

 _Hell yeah_ , the text said, _I miss you already._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto tries, but it's not good enough.

  
“Where’s Haru-chan today?” Nagisa asked, reaching his chopsticks over and stealing some of Rei’s food. Rei sulked, but let him.  
  
Makoto shrugged. Nagisa stared at him.  
  
“You don’t _know_?” he asked Makoto, mouth agape, like Makoto had just given him some obscene hand gesture.  
  
Makoto chuckled, feeling hollow inside. “He doesn’t tell me everything, Nagisa. We’re not attached at the hip.”  
  
“Could’ve fooled me!” Nagisa said and shrugged, taking a large bite of his bread.  
  
Makoto saw Rei inspecting him from the corner of his eye. He knew Nagisa was easily convinced, but Rei was much more observant. He threw a smile Rei’s way to reassure him, or just to throw him off.  
  
"Maybe he's sick," Rei said, looking like he didn't believe it himself.  
  
"If he's sick, then he must be feeling gloomy,” Nagisa said with an air of confidence. “We should call him! Or better yet, why don't we go visit him after school? We can bring over some medicine and magazines and--"  
  
"I can't," Makoto said abruptly. He smiled again, tilting his head to make it more convincing. "I have to babysit Ren and Ran. Sorry!"  
  
It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. Ren and Ran adored Haru.  
They'd jump at the chance to go visit him, so it wouldn't be difficult to get them to come along.  
  
But the truth was that Makoto hadn't heard from Haru since yesterday, and he was afraid to text or call him. His jaw hadn't bruised (thank _god,_ because how was he supposed to explain that to his family?) but the pain in his heart was still as strong as ever.  
  
Even Yuusuke, kind as he was, hadn't been able to erase it completely.  
  
*  


_Last night_

  
*

"You look like a kicked puppy," was the first thing Yuusuke said, opening his door wide for Makoto.

Makoto had learned since the first night that this was Yuusuke's brother's apartment, who was out someplace tropical for the upcoming winter. No wonder it looked so nice, Makoto thought, sitting down on the loveseat again. This would have been beyond expectations for just a student on break.

Yuusuke sat next to him, throwing an arm around him right away. He leaned over and kissed Makoto's craned neck.   _Just like that_ , Makoto thought, face flushing. He was so affectionate.

"What's wrong?" Yuusuke asked him, taking Makoto's hand and playing with his fingers.

"Nothing," Makoto said, and smiled.

"Come on," Yuusuke said, grinning at him, "you're not that hard to read, Makoto. You sounded depressed on the phone, too. I don't want to pry but you _can_ talk to me, you know."

Makoto stared at their hands. What was the harm, anyway? Yuusuke was just a stranger, and it wasn't like their meetups were romantic in nature. Hell, this was only the second one. Just because Yuusuke gave great head didn't mean he thought Makoto and he were going out.

Makoto sighed, leaning back against Yuusuke's arm. "Okay. There is something--or someone, I guess."

"Yeah?" Yuusuke said, squeezing Makoto's shoulder. "A boyfriend? Girlfriend?"

"No," Makoto said. He closed his eyes.  He didn't want to talk about this, but at the same time it felt good to have someone on the outside who could listen to him. "My best friend. He's mad at me."

"Mad at you? Who could be ever mad at you?"

"No, it's okay," Makoto said, feeling his cheeks heat up at the compliment, "I deserved it. I've been a bad friend. I've been--I haven't been _trying_ to ignore him, but I haven't been spending enough time with him either."

"Why not?" Yuusuke asked.

Makoto covered his face with his hand, feeling the tears coming on again. This was so embarrassing. He'd already cried enough tonight. He'd already had an embarrassing moment earlier while folding Haru's clothes and putting them in a bag to give to him. He'd just broke down, gripping Haru's shirt, burying his face in it.

"Hey," Yuusuke said, "it's okay. This guy means a lot to you, huh?"

Makoto bit both his lips and nodded, the tears streaming down his face regardless of how hard he tried to hold them back. He took a deep breath.

"I love him," he said.

"Well, then he's a lucky guy," Yuusuke said. He didn't remove his arm or his hand like Makoto had expected him to. In fact, he moved closer, throwing a leg over Makoto's thigh, almost in his lap. He kissed Makoto's neck again.

"I messed everything up," Makoto whispered.

"Now, now," Yuusuke said, his voice just as soft. "Shit happens with best friends. If you love him this much, then I'm sure he has the same feelings for you."

"But," Makoto said, wiping his eyes on his sleeve, "I'm _in_ love with him."

"I know," Yuusuke said. When Makoto looked down at him, he was grinning. "I could tell. And I'm still convinced it's the same for him, you know? You're a great guy as far as I can tell, Makoto. Honestly, I'm a little jealous of your friend because he doesn't know what he has."

Somehow, that statement made the tears flow harder. _Honestly_ , Yuusuke had said. Why couldn't Makoto just be honest? He wiped his eyes harder, but nothing helped.

Yuusuke leaned back against the couch and pushed Makoto into his neck, making soothing noises, rubbing Makoto's back up and down. His hand went under Makoto's sweater a few times but he never did anything else other than kiss the top of his head.

Makoto fell asleep like that. When he woke up in the morning it was in Yuusuke's bed. There was a note on the bedside table.

 _'Meeting up with my brother,'_ the note said. _'Loved having you over last night, you're welcome anytime. Good luck!'_

*

 

Makoto's classes dragged on, feeling especially long in the afternoon. He glanced at the bag of clothes he had brought with him. He still needed to give that back to Haru. Mad as Haru was, he still needed his uniform.

He’d decided to go to his house after class, but then he remembered that Nagisa and Rei were going there too. He could ask Nagisa to take it there for him, but Nagisa would no doubt peer inside the bag. And then he'd no doubt have a ton of questions about why Haru-chan's swimsuit was there in addition to his clothes, and Makoto didn't feel like deflecting anyone else today. He was already exhausted.

He'd go sometime after dinner, when he was sure Nagisa and Rei weren't there. Then he'd just leave the clothes in front of the door and knock…or something.

Makoto sighed. Everyone in the class, including the teacher, turned around to look at him. Makoto flushed, sinking lower in his seat. He didn't think he'd been that loud.

He was a mess without Haru.

*

“Oh,” Makoto said, “…hi.”

Haru stared at him. The kittens scattered underneath his feet. Makoto knew he liked to sit outside his house and feed them, but he hadn’t thought about it happening tonight. He hadn’t been able to think about much other than Haru.

“Here,” Makoto continued, unsure of what else to do. He thrust the bag towards Haru, who looked at it like it was foreign to him. “Your clothes. Listen, I—”

“Oh,” Haru interrupted. He didn’t reach for it, looking at his feet instead.

“Can we talk?” Makoto asked.

Haru shook his head.

“Why not?”

“I don’t feel like it.”

Makoto pursed his lips. That was so stubborn of him. But it wasn’t anything new, and that realization came with a pang of affection. He just wanted to sit next to him and put an arm around him, like how Yuusuke had done for him. He had felt warm in that moment and Haru looked cold right now.

“Haru,” Makoto tried again, “I’m sorry…”

Haru stood up suddenly, took the bag, and went inside the house. That was it. Makoto watched the light from inside disappear as the door was shut in his face.

*

“Turn around for a second,” the man said. Makoto could barely make out his face in the shadows, but his body looked like it was at the peak of perfection. He had a long torso and arms, built like a basketball player. Makoto felt a rush through go him at the fact as he turned around and felt the man’s thumbs press up and down his naked back, stopping right over his towel. The air in the room was musty with steam.

Makoto had never been to a bathhouse before. It’d been surprisingly easy to get in. Nobody at the front door had looked at him twice, or even asked for his ID. Maybe because he was tall.

This guy didn’t look much older than him, either, but he was taller than Makoto.  A lot taller, in fact.

The man turned Makoto around again and ran his hands down Makoto’s front, thumbs pushing into Makoto’s nipples and down to the hair under his bellybutton, scratching it with his nails. Makoto’s cock was hard through the towel, lifting it up. It was a flimsy old thing, anyway; Makoto wasn’t sure it was even clean.

The man seemed to be thinking the same thing. At least, he grabbed Makoto’s cock through the fabric with a hungry hand and undid the towel with his other hand, leaning down to bite Makoto’s shoulder lightly, then kiss it.

Makoto bit his lip, holding back a noise. The man’s hand was so big. What a great grip, he thought faintly, backing up into the massage table placed in the middle of the room. He hoisted his ass up onto the table with the help of the man, and tipped his head back as his towel was pulled off. He spread his legs and took hold of the man’s hips, pulling him forward against his ass. He ground into it the same way he’d done on the train the other day, first in circles, then just irregularly when the man started thrusting back. He reached out for the man’s towel and pulled it off, settling with his back on the marble.

He didn’t want any coddling tonight. He stared into the fluorescent light as he heard the man ripping open a condom wrapper, then uncapping the lube and slicking it over his dick. There was a fat moth buzzing into the light, Makoto noticed, feeling the man’s finger entering him. One, then two, and then Makoto moaned softly as a third was added.

“Big,” he heard himself saying, “Your fingers are so big.”

“Oh,” the man said, sounding almost bashful. It was strange, given the situation. “Thanks. “ He curved his fingers as he thrust in and out with one hand and thumbed the head of Makoto’s cock with the other, wiping the precum over the shaft. “You have a nice cock,” the man offered, like he was complimenting Makoto’s hair.

Makoto laughed despite himself. “Thanks,” he replied.

It hurt when the man entered him, but it didn’t hurt half as bad as his first time. Still, he felt his ass stretching and squirmed a little bit, only to feel the man lean over and kiss the top of his head. That was just how Yuusuke had done it. That was just how Makoto wanted Haru to do it.

The man pulled out and thrust again, kissing Makoto's ear, then his neck. He was unusually nice for someone in a bathhouse, Makoto thought. He had a nice cock too, a little curved so Makoto felt pressure right where it felt best.

It didn’t take long for him to finish. The man pulled out halfway through just to suck at Makoto’s cock, bobbing his head up and down until Makoto tugged at his hair—short and red—to let him know he was about to come. Then he held his mouth there until Makoto was finished, breathless and covered in sweat that shined in the dim, flickering light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the comments and kudos, everyone! truly, thank you for reading + taking in this different perspective on makoto in with an open mind!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto reminiscences. Yuusuke returns to school. One of Makoto's worst nightmares come true, but the really difficult part is yet to come.

It was the second day in a row where Makoto could barely stay awake in class. The teacher’s voice droned on and he leaned on his fist, trying not to nod off. He'd gotten home much too late last night.  
  
He could've been a little earlier to bed but he had taken a detour to walk along the beach, tracing the same old footprints in the sand that had long ago washed away. He and Haru used to take walks on the beach like this at night, once upon a time.  
  
Makoto remembered one night in particular. It was after dinner, when Haru had wanted to go for a swim and Makoto wanted to accompany him. Haru had stepped out of the ocean, dripping wet and barely shivering, accepting the towel Makoto offered him and sitting on it after drying himself.  
  
“I don’t know anyone else who likes to swim at night like you,” Makoto told him, hugging his knees and smiling at him. What he really wanted to say was _I don’t know anyone else who’s like you_ , but he swallowed those words.  
  
Haru shrugged. “It’s not that cold,” he said, right before he sneezed. Makoto stood up and picked his own towel up, shaking it free of sand before getting on his knees and wrapping the towel over Haru’s head. He rubbed Haru’s hair and face because Haru had done a careless job of getting himself dry, and also because he wanted to be near Haru as much as possible. He liked taking care of Haru, he thought vaguely to himself.  
  
"The waves, too," Makoto reminded him, holding Haru's face through the towel, looking into his eyes. "They're dangerous."  
  
Haru stared back at him. It wasn't a challenge but a return, an acceptance. He never looked away from Makoto when Makoto looked at him like this. And Makoto wasn't sure what "this" was, either.    
  
He almost leaned in and kissed Haru. But instead he drew him in, wrapping his arms around Haru's shoulders and scooting closer, turning his face into Haru's hair.  
  
Haru's arms came up to touch Makoto's back. They stayed like that for a while. Anyone who walked by would think they were lovers in that moment, but Makoto knew the bitter truth. He knew that when he pulled away there'd be no kisses for him. So he vowed to find someone else he _could_ kiss, just for the night.    
  
And that's when it had all began. All of Makoto's late night trips, all his dodging around his family and around Haru. And it was fun--not the dodging part, but the people part. Makoto never stopped liking to touch, to kiss, to fuck. But it never gave him the same thrill he got doing something as simple as holding Haru's hand.  
  
He hadn’t noticed when his feelings had transformed from friendship to deep, aching love. He’d just woken up on a morning that felt the same as every morning, brushed his teeth, put on his uniform, and went to Haru's house. It was routine.  
  
But this time, Haru hadn't been in the tub doing some last-minute soaking. He'd been adjusting his tie in front of his door, ready and waiting for Makoto.    
  
Makoto wanted to help him with his tie. He almost reached out to do so, but suddenly imagined himself doing something else.  
  
He imagined himself undoing the knot and pulling it loose, sliding it out from under Haru's collar. He imagined wrapping it around his fist and kissing it, and then kissing Haru. He imagined himself reaching past Haru to open Haru's door and nudge them both inside, never breaking their kiss, taking Haru's hands and putting them around his waist. He imagined getting on his knees and nuzzling Haru's erection through his slacks and his swimsuit, putting his mouth over the fabric and moaning to himself, because it was Haru.  
  
"Good morning, Haru-chan!" He said instead, waving his hand with a bright smile.  
  
"Good morning. Don't call me that," Haru replied, but there was a faint smile tugging at his lips.  
  
And Makoto had wanted to fuck that smile right off his face.  
  
*  
  
It was Yuusuke's last day in Iwatobi. He texted Makoto to ask him about lunch. Makoto accepted and met up with him after school, still in his uniform. Haru had been in class today but had sat in a different spot behind Makoto, so Makoto hadn’t seen him at all.  
  
Yuusuke kissed Makoto in the bathroom. Makoto deepened the kiss and unbuttoned his own shirt, pulling Yuusuke to his chest. He was the one who moved Yuusuke's hand to his cock; he was already hard. Yuusuke grinned against his nipple and his fingers went under Makoto’s fly. He ground his palm against Makoto’s dick while kissing his ear and Makoto prayed that nobody wanted to use the bathroom at this very moment.

Of course, whoever decided those things had already decided that Makoto needed to be punished,  because as soon as Makoto heard the knock on the door he already knew who it was.

Why had they been so stupid? Makoto chided himself. Why had they decided to go to the most popular pizza place in town—the one place out of two that actually had pineapple mackerel pizza on the menu?

Yuusuke paid no mind and continued to kiss down Makoto’s belly, his mouth joining his hand as he stroked Makoto. They heard the knock again and Makoto knew for sure it was Haru—he’d recognize Haru’s knocks anywhere. He’d probably be able to recognize his footprints too, he thought vaguely, which was maybe a little over the top.

Makoto put a hand on Yuusuke’s head, looking around. He didn’t know what to do. There were no other windows in this bathroom; he probably would have been crawling out of one already. It didn’t help that Yuusuke’s mouth felt so good, either—it scattered his thoughts. He bent over Yuusuke, putting his hands on Yuusuke’s back, pressing his face against Yuusuke’s shirt. His hips jerked a couple times into Yuusuke’s face but Yuusuke held him steady, taking his time, licking Makoto’s cock from the base to the tip and then sliding his lips over the head, fingers squeezing Makoto’s ass.

He pulled back when Makoto was about to come and let Makoto finish on his face. Cum dripped into his lashes, down his nose and into the groove of his smile. Then he licked his lips and rubbed his face over Makoto’s hips, kissing his softening dick.

“My best friend is out there,” Makoto whispered. He knew he was totally ruining the mood, but it slipped out.

“You were thinking about him just now?” Yuusuke asked, moving past Makoto to wash his face in the sink.

“I…” Makoto tried, but he couldn’t lie. He’d even thought Yuusuke’s face looked a little bit like Haru’s with the dark hair and long lashes. “Only because he knocked.”

“Wow,” Yuusuke said, looking over his shoulder at Makoto. He shifted his hips, and Makoto realized Yuusuke was still hard and hadn’t even asked for a hand. “I _am_ a little jealous, you know that?”

Makoto took a step closer to him and pressed him up against his front, glancing at them both in the mirror. “That was unfair of me,” he said into Yuusuke’s ear, hands going to Yuusuke’s crotch. “I’m very sorry.”

“You’re only making it worse,” Yuusuke sighed, but leaned back on Makoto’s shoulder, kissing his jaw and breathing into his neck as Makoto stroked him to completion with strong, firm hands.

*

Haru wasn’t anywhere in the restaurant when Yuusuke and Makoto left the bathroom, but Makoto still got their pizza to go, not wanting to take any chances. Of course, just because Haru wasn’t _inside_ the restaurant didn’t mean he couldn’t be sitting at one of the outside tables instead. A table which, conveniently, was right next to the door.

You couldn’t tell how he really felt just by looking at his face; Haru’s expression was stoic as he sipped his soda through a straw, his food finished already. He was alone and his schoolbag next to him probably meant he had wanted to get some studying done after lunch. He and Makoto usually studied together, but Makoto had been too timid to text Haru if he wanted to for tomorrow’s quiz this time around.

“Hi, Haru,” Makoto said, hoping his voice didn’t waver. He couldn’t just ignore his best friend and keep walking like that. “Um…this is my friend, Yuusuke! He was visiting for his break.”

Haru’s eyes slid past Makoto to focus on Yuusuke, giving him the onceover with what looked like mild disinterest. Makoto knew he was mad, though. Haru’s ankles were crossed stiffly and he looked like he was biting the straw in his mouth. Makoto tried to think of something else to say but Yuusuke leaned past him, bowing his head slightly.

“Very nice to meet you!” Yuusuke said, “You must be Makoto’s best friend.”

Haru looked away from him and at the table. He could be so rude sometimes, Makoto thought, then caught himself for thinking like such a mother.

“Makoto talks about you a lot,” Yuusuke continued. He even had the gall to lean on Haru’s table, grinning into his face. It would have been funny if Makoto hadn’t felt so sick in the pit of his stomach. “You guys have been friends forever, huh?”

“Yeah,” Haru said vaguely, glancing at Makoto again. This time, though, his gaze didn’t look quite as cold, and Makoto wondered if Yuusuke actually managed to make things better.

“Did you want to join us for pizza?” Yuusuke asked him. Haru shook his head but thanked him politely, then started gathering his things to leave.

“’Bye, Haru,” Makoto said, and Haru nodded at him without looking, zipping his bag up. It was better than nothing at all, which he’d been getting for the past couple of days now.

“Wow,” was the first thing Yuusuke said, taking the pizza from Makoto’s arms once they were in his apartment. “I think your friend _hates_ me.”

“What?” Makoto asked, grabbing a couple of plates and some napkins. Yuusuke’s stuff was all packed up in the corner and ready to go, but the furniture and everything else was still his brother’s. Makoto wondered what he looked like.

“How could you not see the way he was looking at me?” Yuusuke said and laughed, sitting across from Makoto. “Like, _begone, you’re not worthy_ , or something like that.”

“Don’t be silly,” Makoto said. He blushed despite himself, frowning as he took a slice of pizza and bit into it.

Yuusuke shrugged. “I’m not being silly. All I’m saying is that I knew I was right about this.”

When Makoto left his apartment, perhaps for the last time, Yuusuke gave him one solitary kiss between his eyebrows.

“Keep me up to date,” he told Makoto, and ruffled his hair. Makoto drew him into a tight hug and rocked back and forth on his heels, squeezing his eyes shut. Everything going on between Haru and Makoto would’ve felt a million times worse if he had been alone in facing it. If anything, he felt stronger now, ready to tackle this problem.

“Thank you,” Makoto told him, “I will.”  
  
*  
  
They had practice the next afternoon. Gou had everyone swimming laps tirelessly, checking her clipboard and making notes every now and then.  
  
Haru hadn't spoken to Makoto yet, but that was always unsurprising when there was a pool involved. He never seemed out of breath, even after Gou had allowed them to stop.  
  
"Wow," Nagisa said, climbing out of the pool and flopping on his back. "That was ridiculous!"  
  
"I had to make up for the days I was sick," Gou told them brightly, hugging her clipboard to her chest. "You guys are all out of shape! Especially you, Rei!"  
  
Rei was trying to hoist himself out of the pool, grunting with obvious effort. "I wasn't prepared for this," he protested, "otherwise I would've practiced last night!"  
  
Haru was still in the pool, in the water up to his ears. He listened to Gou's pointers there too, never once glancing at Makoto. Makoto still couldn't believe he'd kissed him like that. Every time he saw Haru's lips he was reminded of that incident and wanted to cringe because of how Haru reacted. He was such an idiot.

Makoto stayed behind to do a few laps to clear his head, even with his muscles objecting to the strain and his hands and feet feeling pruned all over. Even Haru had left, or so Makoto thought.  
  
He heard a splash in the lane next to him and turned to see Haru swimming on his back, staring at the sky.  
  
Makoto froze, unable to do anything but float. He finally started to realize how tired he felt, but Haru didn't seem tired at all. He did another lap and touched the wall Makoto was leaning on, moving to an upright position.  
  
"Forgive me," Haru said.  
  
"Huh?" Makoto said intelligently. He couldn't believe Haru was talking to him on his own accord. And just as Makoto was starting to get--no, no, that was a lie. Makoto would never get over him.  
  
"It was rude and immature of me to hit you," Haru said calmly. " So I'm sorry."  
  
"I shouldn't have done what I did either," Makoto said. He got up to the side and sat, elbows on his knees. "Do you hate me?"  
  
Why had he asked that? Was he really being that desperate?  
  
Yes, Makoto decided. He was. He couldn't help but feel like a small child again in situations like this, but he hardly cared anymore.  
  
Haru pulled himself up next to Makoto. He stared at the water. "No."  
  
Then, before he could stop himself, Makoto said, "I love you, Haru."  
  
Haru turned towards him, his mouth unmoving but his eyes widening.  
  
"More than that," Makoto found himself continuing, "there's nobody in my mind but you. Nobody can take your place."  
  
"No boyfriend, then."  
  
"Never was. Only you, Haru. And if you hate me for this then at least we've gotten it over with.”

Haru was looking at him again, and this time Makoto braved looking at him back.

Haru’s eyes narrowed. “That guy wasn’t just a friend.”

Makoto’s mouth fell open. He kept looking for the right words but couldn’t find them.

And then, Makoto realized, he didn’t _have_ to find them right now. If Haru loved him as much as Yuusuke had wanted him to think, then surely he’d give Makoto some time.

“Can I come over today?” Makoto asked him. “I’ll tell you everything, but I just want to make sure I do it right. I need to organize my thoughts. But just know this, Haru…” Makoto covered his face with both hands. He had to take a moment to say it, taking a couple deep breaths. “I’m in love with _you_ , okay?”

“Okay,” Haru said, like Makoto had just said he wanted to go to the movies tonight. “You can come over.” He slipped into the water again, head popping up. “I’m going to swim some more first, though.”

“Sure,” Makoto said. He stood up, his legs feeling like jelly. He only had a few minutes to get all his feelings in order, but the best (and worst) part of it was already on the table.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru and Makoto get intimate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to send a million thanks and kisses to my good friend Yami, who offered to beta these chapters for me and was always giving me advice and encouragement! This fic wouldn't exist without you ; v; / i love you bb! 
> 
> This is the final chapter of this fic, but I am thinking about adding an epilogue!

It was no use. By the time Haru finished swimming, showering, and redressing into his uniform Makoto’s thoughts and emotions were still in a whirlwind. All he could think about on the walk home was how sweet Haru’s damp hair looked on the nape of his neck, how smooth his skin looked despite all the sun, how beautiful his eyes were.

He went through the first scenario in his mind as they walked. 

 _Haru,_ it began _, I know I’ve fucked all these other guys, but I know it’s gonna be different with you._

No. Obviously not. Makoto knew there’d never been anyone else in Haru’s life. He knew, if Haru’d let him, he’d be Haru’s first. That was kind of important.  _Haru’s first_ , he thought to himself, smiling despite the situation. 

He would’ve liked Haru to be his first but he didn’t think about it too hard; what was done was done, and he was thinking too far ahead, anyway. He went over the next scenario. 

 _Yuusuke wasn’t my boyfriend, Haru. Just some guy I met a few nights a week to fuck. It was only because I was sad it wasn’t_ you _._

No. Makoto made a face. That was even worse. It was creepy. If he told Haru that then there wouldn’t be a friendship to save, much less anything more. He wanted at least to be able to salvage that.

“You want some ice pops?” Haru asked as they passed by the convenience store, gesturing at the cooler inside.

Makoto glanced at him. Haru looked perfectly content. “I…sure!”

Haru went inside without another word and bought one, the kind that split in two. He gave half of it to Makoto and sucked contemplatively on his half, occupying his mouth and Makoto’s nervous attention the whole way home.

*

Haru unlocked his door and slipped inside, going straight to his room. Makoto followed him out of habit and sat down on his bed, expecting to talk.

But then Haru started to strip, casually slipping off his blazer and slacks and unbuttoning his shirt. He wasn’t really looking at Makoto so Makoto didn’t know if it was on purpose or just another simple locker room-style change. He remembered the incident in the bath and his cock twitched against his will. 

“Sorry,” Haru said, folding his clothes and setting them on his chair, “just getting more comfortable.”

“Don’t worry,” Makoto said. This was unfair. He’d already told Haru how he’d felt—it felt cruel that Haru knew and was still blind (or at least playing dumb) about how much he affected Makoto.

Haru took out his sweatpants and a big shirt. Makoto immediately recognized it.

“That’s _my_ gray shirt,” he said, not because it made him angry but because it warmed his heart.

“I was going to give it back to you,” Haru said, staring at it in his hand, “but it’s really comfortable.”

“Haru,” Makoto said, unable to help the laugh that came with it, “you can have it. You’ve had it for this long, anyway.”

Haru slipped it on and then reached down. He was actually pulling down his swimsuit. _Again._ After all that had happened the last time he’d wanted to get naked around Makoto.

“Haru,” Makoto said, “stop.”

“What?” Haru said. He paused.

Makoto turned a deep red. He hadn’t even realized he’d said it out loud. He put a hand over his lap, his cock already half-hard from watching Haru undress. "Just...hold on a second," he said, his voice coming out strained. 

Haru stared at him for a moment then seemed to understand, his eyebrows lifting slightly. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

Makoto swallowed, pushing his hand down. He’d promised himself he’d be honest. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I can’t…I can’t focus when you’re changing in front of me.

Haru gazed at him, unruffled. “I see,” he said.

Then, he slid his swimsuit off. And then he sat next to Makoto on his bed, bringing a leg up on the bed, Makoto’s gray shirt sliding over his shoulder as he tilted his head and looked at Makoto.

“Is this making you uncomfortable, too?" Haru asked.

Makoto shut his eyes, both palms in his lap now. “Please put some clothes on, Haru.”

“I thought this was what you wanted,” Haru said. There was the slightest hint of disappointment in his voice.

“I wanted to talk,” Makoto said and swallowed, opening his eyes. “I thought we were going to talk about us.”

Haru frowned. “Why?” he asked, “isn’t this easier?”

“It’s much harder,” Makoto told him woefully. His cock twitched in agreement.

Haru sat back on his hands, looking annoyed. His leg was bent at the knee and Makoto could see that faint line of shadow on his thigh disappear under his shirt. He wanted to follow it with his lips; maybe his tongue. 

“I’m embarrassed,” Haru said, still frowning.  “I became angry with you for no good reason. So today I wanted to try something different.” He took Makoto’s hand and placed it against his lips. Makoto struggled to cover his lap with one hand and control the shaking in his other hand. He felt overwhelmed. 

“But you were right,” Makoto protested, shivering at Haru’s lips on his fingers. He was potentially giving up a really good deal, but he wanted Haru to know the truth. “You were right. Yuusuke wasn’t just a friend.”

Haru made an exasperated noise, dropping Makoto’s hand. “I really don’t want to talk about him.”

It was Makoto’s turn to frown. “I thought you’d want to know—”

“Why would I want to know?” Haru interrupted. “The past is the past, right? I don't care about those people. I thought you said you were in love with _me._ ”

“I _am_ ,” Makoto insisted. This was getting strange. “What did you expect me to talk about, then?”

Haru shrugged. “About how I’m better than everyone else.”

“Haru,” Makoto scolded, smiling a little at his haughtiness, “while you’re dressed like _that?_ ”

“I’m going to kick you out,” Haru threatened. “Don't make fun of me.”

Makoto felt a wave of emotions swell up inside him and rode with it, smiling affectionately at Haru. At the same time he let himself take the image of his best friend in, finally free of the shame that accompanied it. Haru had wanted him to look. Maybe he’d wanted him to look all along but Makoto had pushed it to the side because of its inconceivability. Haru leaned back on his hands and scratched his neck, looking back at Makoto intently.  _All those wasted years_ , Makoto thought to himself, lifting his thumb to Haru’s chin.

“I want to know,” Makoto told him, running his thumb over Haru’s bottom lip. He let his hand fall to Haru’s shirt and gripped it between his fingers, looking down to watch it slide over the outline of Haru’s cock. “I want to know what you think about _me_.”

“Makoto…” Haru said. He pursed his lips and scowled at the blanket.

“I know it’s hard for you,” Makoto said gently, “but I need to know.”

“Makoto is Makoto,” Haru mumbled, sounding shy all of a sudden. “You’ve always been there, so when you weren’t around as much I…I kind of hated it. So I don’t want you to leave again for anyone else.”

Makoto opened his mouth to reply but Haru kept going.

“I kept thinking to myself, _why not me_? Why hadn’t Makoto ever looked at me like that? You never asked me how I felt about anyone else, but you were thinking about that kind of stuff the whole time. But you never told me.”

Makoto smoothed the front of Haru’s shirt, running his palms up and down his chest and belly before finally moving to run down his legs. He felt Haru tremble slightly at the feeling of bare skin on skin and he trembled, too.

“I never knew how to talk to you about it,” Makoto said. “I figured this was easier. I was too afraid to get rejected. This was better – this way I could still be your friend, right?"

“ _So_ much better,” Haru replied sarcastically, leg muscles twitching wherever Makoto stroked them. Makoto thoughtfully massaged his legs, pressing his fingers into the dips and curves of muscle, kneading around the joints. He got to Haru’s feet and pressed his thumbs into the arches, scooting closer to Haru all the while. Soon enough, the backs of Haru’s thighs were settled on Makoto’s thighs and Makoto didn’t care anymore if Haru could see the bulge in his slacks, the tip damp and sticky. “We’re still friends, anyway.”

“Promise?” Makoto asked him. He stopped massaging Haru’s legs, palms settling on his bare thighs. “I want you to promise.”

He didn’t feel right saying that to Haru—he wasn’t used to wanting things _from_ Haru, just wanting Haru himself.

Haru smiled. He had such a beautiful smile, small but so sincere it struck Makoto right where it hurt the most. “I promise,” he said.

“Haru,” Makoto said. “You’re beautiful.”

“Hmm,” Haru said, blushing again and turning away slightly. He was being coy again. He _had_ done that on purpose in the bathroom; reaching for the towel behind Makoto.

“I’m so hard,” Makoto whispered into his ear, pushing into Haru so Haru could feel it against his own dick, still covered by the t-shirt. Makoto stared at it.

“You can touch it,” Haru said, and covered his mouth with the back of his hand, laying his head on Makoto’s shoulder and looking down with him.

Makoto took a deep breath. He reached out and took ahold of Haru’s cock, shirt and all. The cloth stretched out around the head and when Makoto rubbed his fingers back and forth a little a little wet spot appeared, bleeding into a darker gray.

Makoto had to look away, or else he’d come just from this. He turned his head to his right and Haru’s face was inches from his own, one of his knuckles between his teeth.

Makoto kissed his fingers, then nudged them away with his chin. Haru moved his hand to cup the back of Makoto’s head, and Makoto took the plunge. Their noses bumped but Makoto didn’t let that stop him; catching Haru’s mouth into a kiss again was the best thing he’d ever done. Especially now, when he knew for sure Haru wanted to kiss him back. Haru didn’t taste like anything in particular but Makoto loved his taste anyway, feeling Haru’s tongue sliding past his own tongue and into his mouth. Their kisses were a little noisy and wet and Makoto found himself squeezing Haru’s cock unconsciously until Haru would shift around on his lap, making a few small noises of his own.

“Don’t hold back,” Makoto told him, stroking Haru’s cheek with his free hand and leaning over him, pressing Haru’s back into his own bed. “I want to hear you. I want us to be honest tonight; naked.”

“Then take your clothes off,” Haru said. His finger slipped into the knot of Makoto’s tie and he unraveled it easily, sliding it out from under Makoto’s collar.

“My hands are full,” Makoto told him, kissing him again, one hand stroking Haru’s cock and the other moving up and down Haru’s thigh again, curving around one ass cheek.

Haru lifted his arms to unbutton Makoto’s shirt. His hands were shaking, Makoto noticed, with a pang of desperate need. Despite his serious face, Haru was nervous—he was nervous because of _Makoto_.

As for Makoto, he felt like he was in heaven. He couldn’t think of anything better than Haru’s legs tangled around his and his old shirt sticking to Haru’s cock, which his hand was also around. He loved feeling how hard and how hot Haru’s cock was, what a nice shape it had, and how nicely it fit into Makoto’s palm: not too big, not too small.

 

Haru finished unbuttoning Makoto's shirt and drew it down around his shoulders. It was a thrill seeing Haru’s eyes rove over his shoulders and chest like that, being on the other side of that hungry look.

“I can’t believe this is real,” Makoto whispered to him, letting go of him for a moment—a terrible, cold, lonely moment—to slide his arms out of his shirt. “I’ve dreamed about this, Haru.”

He felt like taking that statement back as soon as he said it because it sounded so obsessive, and then he saw Haru smile again.

“Me too,” Haru said.

Makoto was overcome all over again. He had to stop to slump over Haru and hug him tight, wrapping his arms around him as snugly as he could. He rubbed his face into Haru’s neck, breathing him in, then kissing him, then sucking on the skin, hard enough to bruise. 

 Then he moved his face lower, kissing down Haru's chest. He pulled Haru's shirt up and kissed around one of Haru's nipples, biting down gently, looking up at Haru to watch his reaction. Haru's eyes were half-lidded and his face was flushed, his mouth halfway open. 

“Haru,” Makoto said, with reverence. “Haru-chan, I love you.” He kissed Haru's belly and took a moment to just look at Haru's cock, the tip flushed as brightly as Haru's face. Makoto took it in his hand again and wrapped his lips around it without hesitation. He'd already been holding back long enough.

"Makoto," Haru said, louder, his feet sliding around on his blanket, both legs on either side of Makoto's head.

"Say my name again," Makoto said, his lips touching Haru's dick with each word, before he closed his eyes and sucked. 

Haru paused, like he was thinking, and then said it again. "Makoto."

"Haru," Makoto replied, muffled around his cock. Haru flinched at his voice, so Makoto said his name again, too, dragging out the last syllable to make it vibrate through his skin. Haru responded by grabbing Makoto's head with his hands, fingers in Makoto's hair. He kept still, shivering in place, holding Makoto's head steady. Makoto wanted to take him in deeper but Haru was shaking his head. 

"Not yet," Haru said. Makoto understood and gripped the base of his cock, giving the tip a chaste kiss. 

"You close already?" He teased gently, and Haru's brows shot together. 

"I'm not used to this like you are," he said sullenly.

"Rude, Haru," Makoto said. Makoto, for all his conquests, had only begun this in the last year. 

He still remembered his first: a boy around his age who swore he wasn't gay. Makoto hadn't tried to argue with him; he wasn't any more sure himself. All he knew was that if he loved Haru, and Haru was a guy, then it was worth exploring whether the issue was Haru or not.

Turns out, it was both. Makoto had loved the feel of rough hands and strong arms and legs as muscled as his. He'd loved the deep grunts and the feeling of someone else's cock in his hand and in his mouth and sometimes even in him, but he also knew that he was thinking of Haru the whole time.

And now, Haru was in front of him. He'd never understand how much of a dream come true this was for Makoto. Makoto could hardly understand it himself.

He kissed Haru's dick again and sat back on his heels, drawing Haru's knees apart.

"Wait," Haru said. Makoto looked up at his face in question. Haru sat up and crawled forward, his hands on Makoto's chest. He pushed Makoto back until Makoto was lying down and kissed him, hands moving to either side of his face.

Makoto sighed into the kiss, his cock jerking into his slacks. His crotch was practically soaked and he reached down to unzip his fly. 

Haru slapped his hand away. "Hold still," he told Makoto. 

Makoto froze. He'd stop moving in a marathon for Haru. 

Haru started kissing Makoto's chest the same way Makoto had been kissing his. He bit one of Makoto's nipples then moved to the other, then kept kissing down until his mouth was over Makoto's belt. Then, he took the leather in his teeth and pulled the belt out of the loop, loosening it with the help of one hand while the other splayed its fingers over Makoto's face, his thumb running over Makoto's bottom lip. 

Makoto stared through his fingers; that was so hot. Haru actually unzipped his fly with his teeth--he barely struggled, like he'd done it a million times before. A flash of worry shot through Makoto's chest like lightning. What if Haru hadn't been completely open with him? He tried to push it down. Haru deserved the benefit of the doubt and he deserved understanding. It's not like Makoto was in a place to accuse. Especially when Haru was nosing him through his underwear like that. 

Haru sat up again. His shirt slipped back over his own cock and slid down his shoulder again, exposing his neck. It was a little red, Makoto noted with pleasure. He'd be sure to have some hickeys tomorrow. 

Haru moved his fingers to Makoto's mouth, where he slipped them in one by one, alternating. Makoto sucked on each one with diligence, wanting to moan at how nice to felt just to be able to do this. When Haru started to pull his fingers away Makoto _did_ moan, because he wasn't done yet. 

Haru hesitated, but kept moving them away. His eyes were dark, his pupils blown. He grabbed Makoto's pants and dragged the crumpled fabric down Makoto's legs, tossing it to the ground. He reached for Makoto's briefs next. They snagged on his cock and Haru looked up at him with that same, burning gaze. 

Makoto understood. Haru didn't need to say anything. 

“Hold on,” he said. He shifted to bend over the mattress and reach for his schoolbag. Thankfully, he’d placed it close to the bed. He rummaged around inside and found the small tube he always kept around.

Haru made a face. “You walk around with that all day?’

Makoto flushed. “It’s massage oil,” he said.

Haru snatched it from his hand unceremoniously, then poured it over his fingers. Then, he put his shirt in his mouth to hold it up and squeezed the rest all over his cock. Makoto sat up and reached over, wanting to spread the oil around, but Haru pushed his hand away.

“Lie down,” Haru told him, voice muffled through the shirt, and Makoto obeyed. He lifted his hips for Haru’s fingers when he knew they were coming. He didn’t care if that made him look dirty anymore; he meant it for Haru.

Haru was fingering Makoto while wearing Makoto’s shirt; Makoto hadn’t even thought about a scenario like this before. And he’d imagined them all. He stared at Haru biting the cotton, making it wet, a determined look on his face as he added another finger to the one he’d already put in there.

“Haru,” Makoto said. His voice hitched when he said it and he felt so embarrassed. He didn’t want Haru to think he was totally discomposed.

But the truth was that he couldn’t believe it. Once again, he'd floored himself with how much he loved Haru.

He helped Haru position his dick at his asshole, placing his fingers over Haru’s fingers and spreading his legs around Haru’s waist. Haru pushed and the head went in, then the rest--too easily for Makoto’s liking. It was only mildly uncomfortable feeling something inside him again. Makoto could get used to the size and shape of Haru’s dick. It just felt like such a good fit. He sighed and felt Haru’s breath over him, before Haru started kissing his eyelids.

“You were my first kiss,” Makoto said abruptly, prompting a pause from Haru.

“I was?” Haru asked, their foreheads touching. He paused, then said, “you too.”

“I guess that’s when it started,” Makoto admitted. Haru’s cock shifted inside as Haru got comfortable over Makoto. He kissed Makoto's mouth and Makoto sought, kissing Haru with feeling, moving his hips on his own. Haru pushed forward and Makoto shivered, linking his other leg around Haru’s leg, leaning up to kiss him under the jaw.

With every thrust Haru made Makoto found it just a little harder to hold in his voice. It's not like anyone lived here besides Haru, anyway, but he felt too embarrassed to be as loud as he wanted. He put his hand over his mouth, trying to keep his eyes open to look at Haru, but it felt so good when Haru rubbed Makoto's dick with his stomach that he couldn't.  

Then Haru took Makoto's dick in his hand and started jerking him off, and Makoto gave up trying to hold his voice in. 

When he started feeling that familiar buildup at the bottom of his spine he grabbed Haru around the neck and pulled him in to kiss him. Haru bent down, nearly missing his mouth because they were both in constant motion, the bed sheets coming loose and the bed frame shaking. 

"I love you," he told Haru again, just before he froze up and let his orgasm overtake him. Haru kept stroking him, slicking Makoto's cock with his own cum, getting it all over his fingers. "Haru..."

Haru closed his eyes and frowned. He let go of Makoto's dick and grabbed his hips with both hands, his movements becoming faster and jerkier as he neared the edge. When he finally stopped moving--when he froze and shivered--he looked Makoto straight in the eye and said, in a deadpan tone, "I love Makoto too."

And that was all Makoto needed. That was all he really wanted. He smiled so brightly and felt his heart flutter with happiness as he watched Haru recover. Haru let go of him to sprawl on his side next to him. 

"Nobody else anymore," Haru mumbled, closing his eyes with that frown still on his face. "I'm the only one you can do this with."

Makoto chuckled, rolling to his side and gathering Haru into his arms. He pressed his face into Haru's hair and loved that familiar mix of chlorine, shampoo, and sweat. It sounded weird but it was Haru, and it smelled great. 

"You're the one I've been looking for all my life," he said, and squeezed Haru tight to let him know he meant it. 

**


End file.
